


Interagency Cooperation

by totallyrandom



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, Future Fic, Getting Together, M/M, New York City, Police Officer Derek Hale, canon compliant through s6e10, interagency cooperation, living their best lives, reconnecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 11:56:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17344820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyrandom/pseuds/totallyrandom
Summary: He keeps reminding himself that he only has three more hours to go to finish his continuing-ed credits for the year. Then he can get back out on the street. His captain is pushing him to go for detective, but Derek likes being on the street. Always moving, out and about where he can stop crime rather than piece together what happened after the fact. He knows that part is important, too, but he feels more useful out on the beat. And he’s better at it, too.But Derek has a good thing going with this captain, so he’s willing to keep an open mind and jump through some hoops to keep things happy. And it’s not like knowing more is ever a bad thing.





	Interagency Cooperation

Derek is tense as he walks into the afternoon training. It’s going to be rough, but he thinks it’ll be worth it, if he can stay focused.

He’s never been a typical cop. But he’s never needed to be. His heightened senses give him an unfair edge over his colleagues, and his close-rate means Captain Belloc is willing to overlook his … quirks. And his partner, Iska, handles Derek’s aversion to paperwork in exchange for twice-daily coffee, lunch at least once a week, and monthly babysitting. It’s a sweet deal.

He feels a little guilty sometimes, since he certainly spent enough time on the other side of what’s right when he was younger. But moving across country and growing up a lot put an end to all that.

He keeps reminding himself that he only has three more hours to go to finish his continuing-ed credits for the year. Then he can get back out on the street. His captain is pushing him to go for detective, but Derek likes being on the street. Always moving, out and about where he can stop crime rather than piece together what happened after the fact. He knows that part is important, too, but he feels more useful out on the beat. And he’s better at it, too.

But Derek has a good thing going with this captain, so he’s willing to keep an open mind and jump through some hoops to keep things happy. And it’s not like knowing more is ever a bad thing.

This morning’s session had been about new methods of evidence collection and preservation. They even had some lab techs come in and show how things can go wrong when evidence collection is sloppy. He’s never been a big science person, but it was kind of cool.

This afternoon is about interagency cooperation, to be led by an FBI agent. He already know it’s going to be insufferable. But his captain said there’s a grant to have an officer split time between regular police work and assisting the FBI in stopping human trafficking. And Derek thinks that could be a good fit for exorcising some demons from his past, if he can just stay focused.

So he’s hiding in the back row and counting his breaths on the exhale with his eyes closed to prepare himself for the disturbing information he knows they’ll be focusing on this afternoon. That’s why it takes a minute to realize his past has caught up with him.

 

***

 

Derek had hated to leave his hometown in the hands of eighteen-year-olds, but he couldn’t stay in that neverending supernatural shitshow. And they told him it was ok to go. For the first few years, he had tensed every time the phone rang, but they’d never asked him to come back. They’d handled things. They hadn’t needed him. He wasn’t sure at first how he felt about that, but he had settled firmly on relief.

After about five years, he never even thought of California except on the anniversaries of the fire and the death of his sister. New York had been the perfect place to lose himself in the crowd. In a city of over 8.5 million people—all of them so busy, busy, busy—it’s easy to be anonymous. He’d never worked in the precinct where he lived, so he only knew his neighbors by the names on their mailboxes and snippets of fights he unintentionally overheared.

Other than the occasional offer of modeling work, request for help with their groceries by gray-haired neighbors, and his work friends, people mainly steered clear of Derek. Perhaps they instinctively reacted to the danger of being near someone just a bit different, just a bit scary—though if they were even aware of the aversion, they’d never be able to articulate why.

He had a nice, uncomplicated life in New York with few obligations. He could easily pick up and go anywhere in the country and start over if he needed to, but he found that the city suits him well. There were plenty of gyms and bars to pick someone up if he craved some connection, the feeling of skin on skin. He could put on a gentle smile and soften his stance and no one would be the wiser that they’d be bringing danger home with them. Not that he’s a danger to them, but the potential was always there. Keeping his head down in the big city, he hadn’t attracted the attention of hunters. This was the most relaxed he’d felt since before he’d learned to drive a decade and a half earlier.

Or, he was until his past walked right into the room and demanded his attention.

 

***

 

Derek hides in the back of the room and tries to pay attention to the presentation and not just the presenter. But he can’t help but catalog all the little differences he can see compared to his memories from a decade ago.

First he notices that Stiles has tamed the wild energy that used to send him flailing dangerously into his surroundings and rambling with abandon. This older version is calm. No ... he just appears calm. Stiles’s eyes are still ever-alert—just nervous about the presentation or wary of danger? Derek can’t tell from here. There are too many heartbeats and scents between them in this conference room.

Derek swallows down a growl of frustration and refocuses on the content of the presentation. There’d be plenty of time to track Stiles down after. If he wanted to. And Derek’s not sure that he does.

Stiles steps away from the screen and lets his copresenter continue the lecture. Derek finds it harder to pay attention to her because Stiles’s eyes are restless now, shoulders tense. More now than while all eyes were on him. Derek isn’t sure what it means that Stiles’s eyes keep sweeping from aisle to aisle, that he’s starting to tap his fingers on his thighs as he squints—looking for what?

The other presenter says Stiles’s name twice before pressing a hand to his shoulder. Stiles blinks rapidly at her but shows no other signs of being startled. Derek can hear his heartbeat now though, so much faster than anyone else’s. Strangely familiar again after so long.

Derek loses the rest of the talk in wondering when Stiles went back to the buzzcut, how he got that scar by his right ear. Is he taller than Derek now? His shoulders are broader than before and his face has filled out, no longer gaunt and hollow-eyed. He looks healthy. Happy, maybe.

The presentation is over before Derek notices, and then Stiles is walking down the aisle toward the back, eyes sweeping back and forth. Looking, looking. Attendees try to catch his attention, but it’s clear he’s focused on this search. For what?

Derek considers retreating but he’s frozen like prey—wide-eyed and terrified for a moment before forcing himself back to calm.

“There you are,” Stiles says, barely louder than an exhale.

“Stiles,” Derek replies, just as quiet.

“I should have known you’d be in the back row like a creeper,” Stiles laughs, but not cruelly.

“ … How?”

“You’re on the registration list.”

“Oh.”

“You didn’t know?”

“About the list?”

“About me. Presenting.”

Derek shakes his head but can’t think of anything else to say.

Stiles tilts his head and regards him quietly. “Would you be here if you’d known?”

Derek doesn’t have an answer for that.

“Buy you a beer? You can tell me all about how awesome my presentation was.” Stiles squints at him. “Or maybe you need a recap? Was I that boring?”

“No.”

“ … No to which, Derek?”

“Not boring.”

“Ok. Well, that’s … good. Look, I have to head back to DC in the morning. So I’m going to grab a beer and enjoy an evening of not thinking about my job. Want to give me something else to think about?”

Derek startles.

Stiles squints at him for a second before the laughter bursts out. “Yeah, I can see how that might’ve come out … wrong. I just meant, do you want to grab a beer and catch up or something? Or can you at least recommend a bar?”

“I don’t really drink.”

“Right. Of course. Dinner, then?”

“Sure.”

“Lead the way, man. What’s good around here?”

“Preferences?”

Stiles grins. “I like pretty much anything.”

Derek snorts. “There’s some good pizza down at West 4th.”

“Ray’s? Famous Ray’s? Original Ray’s? Famous Original Ray’s? Original Famous Ray’s?”

“Joe’s.”

“Well, that’s no fun,” Stiles pretends to pout.

“Two Boots has weird pizza if you'd rather.”

“Hmmmmm. What else ya got?”

“There’s a mac-n-cheese place. A meatball place.”

“Like a dinner crawl? Meatball appetizer. Mac-n-cheese entrée. Oh! Big Gay Ice Cream for dessert! … Um … ”

Derek feels his eyebrow rise. Stiles grimaces at him.

“Are you?” he asks Stiles.

“Bi. And single. Um, you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes? … Yes bi? Or yes gay? Or yes single? Or … ”

Derek steps all the way into Stiles’s space. “Yes. Interested.”

“We could skip dinner?” Stiles’s stomach betrays him with a rumble. “Great timing,” he mumbles toward his own belly.

“There’s leftover cashew chicken and fried rice at my apartment.”

Stiles grins and loops his arm through Derek’s. “That’ll do for round one.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had this in a Google Doc from way back. I think I was planning to come back to it and expand the story but never circled back. But this was pretty much done, so I figured I'd go ahead and post something. Finally. 
> 
> I do have two other stories I've been poking at, and I'm hoping that this will encourage me to push through the rough parts. Wish me luck!


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